


How Fire Feels in Her Throat

by AllGrey



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Gore, Smoking, Vomiting, beginnings of friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:12:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5793022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllGrey/pseuds/AllGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lone Wanderer is new to this whole....above-ground life. She may not be ready for everything it entails.<br/>Good thing Jericho is there to cuss at her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Fire Feels in Her Throat

The rain had started to hit harder, but she was in such a daze she hardly noticed. Until Jericho spoke, that is. “Fucking wet bullshit, I can’t believe we’re still out here. I’m fucking waiting it out.”  


She followed him without thinking, and found herself in a small shack. A bed, a bucket, and a rusty old shelf against the wall. She absent-mindedly made her way to it. There was a carton of sugar bombs, some rad-away and a syringe. I should probably put them in her bag, she thought, but she couldn’t find the urge to.  


“This goddamned storm better pass quick.” Jericho grumbled. She turn to look at him, and that’s when she saw the blood on his armor.  
Sticky, cold blood from the body hanging over the door. It had had it’s hands and feet cut off, and the blood was sluggishly dripping from what was left. The head had been left on, but she didn’t truly see it. It was being held up by barbed wire, wrapped around and around its chest and arms, and the blood kept flowing, dripping onto her and the ground….everywhere….  


Right before she had screamed, a hand had come over her mouth. She struggled against the grip, hands scrambling to get a hold on the arm, nearly biting down until Jericho had whispered to her.  


“Shut the fuck up. We came here to kill these assholes, not fucking die. Hold it in, and we can fuck their shit up.”  


She had shut up. She had listened. She had used her sniper rifle while Jericho used his shotgun. They had cleared the place out, and left with food and medicine. But she had seen the explode through her scope. She had walked past more and more blood, slippery and warm this time and she was still…..  


She barely made it to the bucket in time to get her vomit inside of it.  


Distantly, she heard Jericho say “What the shit?” but she was a little preoccupied. They had had more bodies strung up than just the one beside the door. All over the building, next to their beds…  


She threw up some more.  


“Great, now we’re stuck in here until this passes with that goddamn smell.” Jericho sneered from next to the doorway.  
When she felt her stomach settle again, she leaned back against the bed to stare at the ceiling. Great job, 101, you’ve managed to look weak in front of a former mercenary. That can’t make this situation any worse.  


They sat in silence for a few minutes, with just the sound of the rain hitting the metal walls. Then Jericho spoke up again. “That fucking stinks.”  


“‘M sorry.” She croaked out. Her voice sounded rougher than she had intended, so she looked down at Jericho to gauge his reaction.  


He simply ignored her and reached into his pocket. He grabbed a….cigarette?  


“You smoke?” She found herself asking. Completely unintentionally, because Jericho of all people was not one for small talk.  


“Yeah. What, you don’t?” The sarcasm in his tone was pretty evident.  


“We never had the supplies for cigarettes.” She really hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Is this what murder did to a person? They get the irresistible urge to talk to people who hate them?  


“Well, fuck. Didn’t think ‘bout that.” Huh? That was a much more considerate reply than she expected.  


It started to hail outside. It reminded her of bullets, hard and loud and fast. All around her. She felt a little jittery, and after a minute or so decides that talking to an angry man must be better than simply listening to this.  


“How did you start smoking?” Well, it’s a question, at least. Not a good one. Still better than the noise.  


“I don’t fucking know. Everybody does. Well, everybody in the goddamn Raiders-” And she couldn’t stop herself from jumping at the name.  


Which was just ridiculous. Wasn’t it ridiculous? It’s a name, not…..God…  


“Kid?” he murmurs, almost softly. She saw the look in his eye, and would’ve labeled it concern, if he wasn’t the man that he was.  


And he was a dangerous man. So she said, almost hastily, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” And waved her hand dismissively. As if she hadn’t thrown up in a bucket in a random shack, terrified out of her wits.  


He took a look at her, scowled, and started walking towards her. Which was honestly terrifying until she realized that he was headed for the space against the bed next to her. She couldn’t help feeling a little tense when he started digging through his pockets, though.  


“The first time I killed a guy,” and he was most certainly talking to her, but his voice was still as soft as a moment ago, and that doesn’t make any sense, “I threw up for four goddamned hours. On and off, but it was hell. I kept thinking about shit.” He pulled out a cigarette and moved to hand it to her.  


She was a little too rattled up for this today. She just stared at it.  


“Just fucking try it. It’s not a fix-all miracle or some shit, but it can fucking distract you if you focus.” He said.  
She looked him in the eye. He smelled like nicotine, alcohol and blood and she hesitated before the realization hits her. That’s what this world is. This is what this world has been for 200 years, while the vault lived out a farce of the past beneath its feet. Jericho had lived this way his entire life, and generations have before him. She could see now, why the Overseer lied to everyone, why her father lied to her. They didn’t want this. But they were wrong.  


This was the way things were. Blood and fire and death. And the only way to change that is to admit it. No good can come from ignorance.  


So she warbled an “Alright,” and took the cigarette from his hands.  


He was silent as he lit it. Like it was some kind of serious thing, which was different for him. Hell, this whole attitude was. When she breathed in the smoke, she coughed up what felt like a lung. God, her throat was killing her.  


But then, Jericho chuckled. Just a little. It wasn’t his dark one before he said something disgusting, or his maniacal laughter when he wanted to kill someone. Just a chuckle.  


She took in the somewhat relaxed look on the man’s face and tried again. This time, it wasn’t so bad.  


And isn’t that symbolic?  


“Thanks,” she said.  


“It’s nothin’, kid.”


End file.
